


I'm very different too

by Darke_Eco_Freak



Series: It's different but we still work [1]
Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, M/M, Rimming, elliot should really pay more attention to things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-05
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4503171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darke_Eco_Freak/pseuds/Darke_Eco_Freak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes it's nice to pretend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm very different too

He doesn't sleep more than four hours per night, between hacking and morphine he didn't need to. He had a fish named Qwerty that he'd gotten from...somewhere, probably Angela, and a dog named Flipper that he'd saved, stolen, from a man.

He was a part of a hostile hacker group called fsociety, had imprisoned the drug dealer that hurt his girlfriend and was currently being followed by men in black, possibly real, possibly delusions. He should probably talk to his therapist about them but he wouldn't, he never told her anything important anyway.

He had severe haphephobia and social anxiety, not to mention his chronic depression which was the cause of his morphine use in the first place. He preferred to stay inside and hated his job at AllSafe but stayed because it paid well and he didn't really have anything else in mind to take care of bills. He'd put several people in jail via hacking their personal information and was about to help take out Evil Corp, the largest conglomerate in human history.

He, Elliot Alderson, was about to change the world.

He was also being eaten out by the certifiably insane man that had recruited him to the cause but that wasn't the most important thing in the world.

He still wasn't a hundred percent on how he'd ended up at Mr. Robot's apartment, nice brownstone outside and didn't look like a drug den, or in his room, Spartan with a nice cream paintjob. The only thing Elliot knew for certain was that he didn't mean to be here, well that and there was a tongue in his ass doing ungodly things.

The scrape of the man's scruff was nice, grounding, and made him squirm when it rubbed too hard. He'd heard about beard burn before, usually on the inside of thighs, maybe he'd have it on his ass? The tongue fucking in and out of him was nice too, made him curl his hands into fists and tear at the soft sheets.

"How?" he began but quickly lost that train of thought as the hands on his thighs squeezed hard enough to leave bruises. Maybe that was the point, leave enough bruises and maybe this would mean something later, or maybe the man just wanted to show the world how good he was. 'Hey look at me! I got to touch the touch phobic Elliot Alderson!', or maybe he was just reading too much into things again and the harsh grip was just how Mr. Robot fucked.

"Why are we here?" he managed, words slurred as he bit back a moan, of pleasure maybe, as Mr. Robot's tongue fucked him open and wet. He's not sure how to describe the feeling, nice yes but he didn't have much of a reference point beyond his drugged up times with Shayla, even then he hadn't been the one in control. So maybe _this_ is just more of _that_ , him lying back and taking whatever his partner was willing to give without having to put any of himself out there.

Well, other than his ass and the choked off groans escaping through clenched teeth. Mr. Robot was good at this which wasn't as surprising as it should be, the man's a smooth talker so it only made sense he was good at using his mouth everywhere. He has all the evidence he needs when the tongue retreats from his too sensitive asshole to lick a broad stripe over his entrance. He jumped with that one, a full body spasm that would've had him on the ground if not for the tight grip on his legs.

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" Mr. Robot replied playfully, kissing the back of his thigh. The man's eyes were light and filled with what was that? Lust, happiness, mischievousness, some strange combination of all three? Or was it just a cover? A mask to hide what he really thought, his real intentions behind whatever it is they're doing here.

"If you answered any, maybe," he shrugged, stopping short at the pressure it put on his far too hard cock. Here he was on his back, nearly folded in half, on Mr. Robot's bed and he couldn't stop thinking about the man's real intentions behind...anything. Why Elliot? He was a hacker, so what? His father had gotten screwed over by Evil Corp and died, he worked for one of their security firms and hated it, he didn't have any sort of special access or any real reason to be a part of their group.

"The answers'd just spawn more questions," the man sighed, licking a stripe up his dick and sucking on the head. Elliot had to bite his lip hard to hold the moan for that one, the same way he'd been doing for the entirety of this encounter. From the arcade where he couldn't focus on anything but Mr. Robot's lips, his hands, his eyes as they stared at him in return. He'd waited until the others left, one at a time out the door, before the man approached him.

He'd crowded into Elliot's space, had him up against one of the walls behind the arcade machines, hidden if anyone decided to pop back in. Then they'd stared at each other, him wondering if he was really going to let this happen, if he was going to let this crazy fucker touch him. The first kiss had been tentative, soft, uncertain as though the man had expected him to flinch away immediately, he hadn't.

The second kiss had been harder, more pressure, more of another person's tongue shoving into his mouth and coaxing him to unwind. The man had made a point of telling him to relax more than once, maybe this was his way of making Elliot do just that. Hands had settled on his hips, stroking the flesh there as opposed to dragging him in closer, hot fingers that had to have branded him.

They'd left, somehow communicated with each other telepathically to find somewhere more appropriate to continue this. Or maybe Mr. Robot had just seen the hunger in his eyes, maybe he'd looked the same way he had when he was chasing after his morphine hit. The man had seen him then, sweaty and shaking from withdrawal, pitiful and desperate for another person's presence. Mr. Robot had seen him then and stayed with him, seeing him horny probably wasn't any worse.

He'd expected to head towards the subway but Mr. Robot had steered him away, down empty streets to a fairly nice apartment complex. Then up, up, up the stairs because the elevator was broken, to his home and never once letting go of Elliot's sleeve. They had _just_ kissed, he'd had his tongue down Elliot's throat, but Mr. Robot was still considerate of the no-touching thing, it was...strange.

"You with me kiddo?" Mr. Robot asked, hands on his face, not as hot as before but still warm. He let his legs fall back to the bed and uncurled his fists, processing the question and how best to answer it. Was he ever with anyone? He was always so wrapped up in his own head, his own thoughts chasing each other around and around.

"Yes…fuck me," he requested, raising his hand to hover above Mr. Robot's cheek, focusing on the quick flick of tongue over lips. Rough denim against his thighs only had him squirming more as the older, bigger man yanked down the zipper and shoved his pants to the floor. They were both still wearing their shirts and jackets, hoodie, and if this was normal, they'd get naked. Get naked and sweaty and moaning and groaning loud enough for the neighbours to complain and do the whole pillow talk, holding each other close, couples shit.

The lube was cold against his too hot skin so he shivered, Mr. Robot just leaned down and kissed him still. Tongue plunging into his mouth now that he had permission, taking everything he wanted and leaving Elliot wanting more, **_needing_** more. Pleasure was swimming in his veins, set his heart racing and muddled his senses, it was the strangest contrast, almost like he'd taken molly and morphine at the same time. He'd done that before so he knew what it felt like, this was close but not it.

Each finger was another stretch towards the main event, it didn't hurt but it was unusual, he'd never exactly experimented with any of this. In fact sex was just another thing he didn't bother with, he didn't like touch so this…thing with Mr. Robot was even more confusing. The fingers pressing against his prostate weren't confusing though, his jolting reaction was embarrassing, uncomfortable but those fingers were everything but confusing.

"You sure you want this Elliot?" Mr. Robot murmured, voice deeper than he'd heard it before and reminding him of something, what? He shifted, squirmed against the man propped over him, gasped when his cock brushed against a hard stomach and those fingers pressed harder inside him. Did he want this? Maybe. How did he let it get this far? Was he chasing after a substitute for his morphine, something to take his mind off how fucked up he was?

He had a girlfriend, a really nice girlfriend, who was watching his dog and thought he was taking a couple days to himself, or something. Instead he'd gone off with these people he barely knew to destroy Evil Corps' enormous data banks and now he was here, getting fucked by this man. So did he want this?

"Yes," he grunted, looping an arm around the man's neck and dragging him in for a bruising, biting kiss. He didn't care what Shayla thought when she saw him next, if she saw the bruises on his hips or the hickies that were sure to be left after Mr. Robot was done with him. Teeth at his collar bone, at his neck, mouthing the vein and sucking hard on the skin, bringing the blood to the surface.

"Well okay then."

He, Elliot Alderson, was a terrible human being because he moaned at the feel of Mr. Robot's cock slipping into ass. For letting Mr. Robot set a harsh pace, slamming home hard but pulling himself out agonizingly slowly and not caring about his wonderful girlfriend.

He let the other man lift his legs up and put them on sturdy shoulders, folding him in half again then proceeding to take him apart. Each thrust was precise, either hitting his prostate dead on and making him jump with the spike of pleasure or brushing cruelly close and having him groan with disappointment. The electric shocks of pleasure were like pure oxygen to his system, jarring, unfamiliar but so very welcome. There was a hand on his waist and another on his leaking prick, stroking him in direct counterpoint to the brutal fucking.

The warm, too warm, hand sliding up and down his dick aided by precome and left over lube took its time in undoing him. Slow, firm strokes that thumbed at his head or squeezed at the base, that were almost gentle, almost loving.

"You know, you're amazing like this. Eyes all wide, panting, sweating, you make a pretty picture kiddo," Mr. Robot huffed, smiling down at him as though he wasn't balls deep in the same man he'd pushed off a god damn railing. Fucking certifiable nutcase. Elliot swallowed hard, staring up this insane, amazing man and wondered just how the fuck.

"Maybe I should take a picture next time," the man suggested, strokes speeding up as that calm, friendly smile dissolved into something darker, sharper. And he came. His orgasm dragged out of him as Mr. Robot finally settled in his mind. The man had his own stake in this, his own motivations and drives, sure he was crazy, cracked but he definitely wasn't as easy going or nice as he wanted everyone to believe.

Always look for the worst in the people, sadly that was the only time they wouldn't disappoint you. Mr. Robot wasn't any different, Elliot'd just had a harder time figuring out what was wrong with him.

He was almost too wrapped up in his thoughts and blissed out from the best orgasm he'd ever had to notice Mr. Robot cumming in his ass. There was the sensation of being completely, impossibly full, and so hot, almost like burning up from the inside. He didn't try to move, just lay there and stared up at the dark ceiling while Mr. Robot took care of clean up.

The feeling of the warm washcloth gliding along his sweaty, heaving body was familiar, not unlike when the man had cared for him during the worst of the withdrawal. When the world wasn't real, when nothing but the pain and misery were. This time the world was quiet with soft edges as the sticky cum was cleaned off his stomach with a sure, gentle hand. He didn't even protest when his tee and hoodie were dragged off and thrown somewhere, the hoodie would need a good wash though. It felt nice to be taken care of, to be cared for, it also felt surreal.

He should get up, should get back to his apartment and get Flipper from Shayla. Shit, he should call Angela too, make sure she was okay, and then he had an appointment with Krista later this week. He should leave, drag on his clothes while Mr. Robot was off in the bathroom doing fuck all.

"Leaving so soon kiddo? You don't have to, you know." And he knew it was an invitation to stay, to spend the rest of the night curled up next to another person. A chance to pretend he was normal, or as normal as this could be. He pushed himself up, wincing at the ache in his ass, the tenderness at his hips.

He should leave, walk out and pretend it never happened. Fuck, he should leave.

"Okay," he answered, dropping back onto the bed and twisting onto his side. He could play at being normal for one night, let Mr. Robot hold him close. He felt the bed dip behind him, the sound of something falling to the floor. There was the faintest touch along his spine, barely a brush, and Elliot could guess that the man had stopped short of pulling him close, remembering just in time. He appreciated it, liked it, so he did something he always tried to avoid after sex when hormones and endorphins ran high, he turned around and pressed himself along the man's back.

He liked pretending that he wasn't so different sometimes.


End file.
